Corazon 2: Lonely Hearts

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Work never changed. The days were long, and one could viably argue the work itself wasn’t rewarding, either. Ezio found some enjoyment in it, or he wouldn’t have gone for it. It took a lot of effort and time to get into the law programme at the University of Britechester, but he’d managed it, even if barely.

Ezio had an apartment of his own, now. He didn’t need anything special, merely a place that he could call his own, away from other people. The Culpepper Apartments in the Spice Market of San Myshuno had become his new home, and Ezio had decided he loved the view, the atmosphere. The people were sometimes annoying, but experience told him it was all in the way he approached them, not necessarily something inherent in them.

That and, Ezio’s hatred of people might have something to do with it.

Much of his life to this point had been spent alone. Nearly three hundred years was a long time to be alone, but he’d done his best. Eventually, despite feeling like he shouldn’t, he’d found his way to the magic realm, and reunited with Rose. He’d only intended to inform his twin he was still alive and mostly well, though some corner of his mind always wondered why Rose had never come looking for him. He’d never asked.

Rose, going by Morgyn Ember now, and looking notably more androgynous, decided he wasn’t allowed to simply disappear again. Morgyn was the sage of untamed magic, the youngest sage in the history of the magic realm, and for whatever reason, the blond idiot insisted on hanging around Ezio, instead. Or, Morgyn used to. Things had changed.

In thinking of it, though, Ezio knew it was logical. The two of them had been separated so long, it was logical that when they were together again, Morgyn would want to be around him as much as possible. If Ezio was any less of a bitter person now, perhaps he’d feel the same way. As it was, he’d tolerated it, until Morgyn made a mistake and Ezio had never forgiven the sage for the slight.

The years hadn’t been kind to Ezio, and though he never stopped looking, he never found what he was searching for. By now, Ezio was convinced that Celio was long gone, and the only reason he continued to search for him was that it gave him some reason to keep moving. Ezio wasn’t naive enough to think that he’d find Celio, not after all this time.

Truthfully, Ezio hardly remembered anything about Celio anymore. Time had confused and blurred the memories in his mind, what memories were still left at any rate. He remembered enough to believe that Celio would want him to continue living. Ezio tried, even as he hardly knew how. Celio had broken his chains, and set him free, but never told him how to live again.

He hadn’t been entirely alone, of course. Ezio had made friends. Many had died, as humans always eventually did, some hadn’t. Ezio had tried to find love again, but it’d never worked out. Sometimes, he’d think he found The One, and then something would go wrong, everything would fall apart, and Ezio’s belief in love waned a little more.

It didn’t hurt as much as it used to. That’s what he’d tell himself, every time, but he was well aware that was a lie. It always hurt just as much as the last time. It was simply that it was less surprising.

With the workday ended, Ezio had made his way back to Culpepper. As he trudged out of the elevator, he nodded slightly at Geeta, standing in the hallway. She and her son Raj lived in the apartment across from his. They didn’t generally get along, and truthfully, had she any idea how many times Ezio had drained a decent amount of her blood and knocked her out, they’d likely get along even less.

Ezio didn’t mind Raj. He wasn’t so bad. He simply needed to learn to make his own decisions. Ezio had told him once, that he’d certainly die his death, it was only right that he lived his life, too. That must’ve been one of those things that normal, mortal people found morbid and slightly threatening. Raj tended to avoid Ezio, now, and instead, Ezio often found Geeta in the hallway. Oh well.

Wordlessly, Ezio reached around Geeta, pulling the envelopes that were in his apartment’s mailbox on the wall out, and then moved for his door. One hand reached into a pocket to extract his keys from it. He only had two keys, anyway. One went to his apartment door, the other, to his bank vault. Ezio made a lot of money but had use for very little of it. He found he saved more of it than he spent. Every so often, he’d grab a few thousand, and hand it to a charity, because if he didn’t he’d start running out of space in his vault.

Ezio’s grey eyes remained on the burnished wood flooring as he opened the front door, moved in, and kicked it closed with a heeled foot. Many still thought him quite strange for wearing women’s heels as an everyday fashion choice, but Ezio liked them. He wore blackened eyeliner, highlighted with a silvery eyeshadow. He painted his lips black, and he had a pair of high heels on, typically stilettos. Half the people he met, amusingly, had no idea what gender he was.

Frankly, most of the time, Ezio had no idea either.

Ezio rifled through the envelopes-mostly junk mail-and tossed his keys into the wooden bowl on the counter. Without looking, he kicked his heels off, slid them across the floor to rest by the door, and went to sit down at the dining room table. It was very loosely a room at all, more accurately.

Functionally, the kitchen, dining room, and living room were all the same, small space. Ezio never hosted parties, nor had many people over besides, nor did he eat. The three rooms could share the same small area if they liked.

“Hey, Splinter,” Ezio said idly, glancing up at the aquarium by the window. Within it, a fish skeleton lazily floated about. It was alive. Or at least, as close to it as a skeleton could get. Ezio had not meant to raise the fish back from the dead. He was trying to learn to do something else with his necromancy and ended up with a bonefish pet. It was an unfortunate side-effect of learning things the hard way, he supposed. At least he was never lonely.

And someday, even if he only found his ghost, maybe Ezio would find Celio. Some part of him still hoped, even knowing it was highly improbable.

Ezio released a sigh, tossing the envelopes onto the table, then stood and moved towards the fridge. The sun was still up, but he was becoming a bit thirsty. A plasma pack ought to hold him over until the sun went down.

~*~

“Ezio!”

The call of Emilia’s voice over the sound of his typing came as a surprise. Emilia typically came by once a week, and as far as he knew, she’d been by this week. Perhaps he’d lost track of time. Ezio often did.

Grey eyes flicked down at the date on the taskbar, and then he released a sigh, closed his laptop lid, and stood to open the door.

Emilia was a bundle of cheer, a wavy mop of blonde hair framing her face, large, wide hazel eyes contrasting a tiny nose. As with almost every day he saw her, she was wearing a green shirt and a pair of jeans. If anyone he knew could be the stereotypical girl next door, it would’ve been Emilia.

It was almost a shame he wasn’t into the girl next door.

Ezio gave her a lopsided smile in greeting, as he opened the door.

Emilia pouted. “You always look like you’re trying too hard to smile,” she said, her arms crossing over her chest. Yet, as quickly as the mild annoyance came, it went again. She smiled, her arms uncrossing, and she went inside. “Hi Splinter!” she greeted, moving over to the aquarium against the back wall.

Ezio’s gaze flicked to the ceiling as he closed the door behind her. “Nice to see you too, Em,” he said.

“Oh, yes, hello to you too,” Emilia said, turning back around to face him. “You’ve been cleaning and such, right?” Despite the question, Emilia ran a finger across one of his kitchen counters. She seems pleased with whatever she did or did not find on its surface.

“Yes,” Ezio answered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “The kitchen was cleaned a few days ago, I also cleaned the bathroom.”

“Good,” Emilia said. “You’re good at forgetting to take care of yourself and your living space, you know, don’t give me that look.”

Ezio snorted, sitting down on the couch. “I wasn’t looking at you like anything,” he said. “I mean, I do think you worry about me too much, but I’ve also accepted I won’t be changing that anytime soon.” He’d tried. Oh, he’d been trying for years now, probably about as long as they’d been friends. Nothing had changed.

If he hadn’t changed her mind by now, it was a solid bet that he’d never be able to.

Emilia moved around the couch, sitting down next to him. She made some kind of noise as she did so. “Probably not,” she said. “Someone ought to worry about you and all. It’s not like Morgyn’s going to do it. He’s bad at worrying about himself.”

Ezio sighed, glancing down at his lap.

“Sorry,” Emilia said softly, her head ducking.

“It’s not your fault.” Ezio didn’t like talking about Morgyn. Anyone that knew anything about him knew that much, but he also recognised there was very little chance of avoiding talk of Morgyn entirely.

Whenever Ezio went to the magic realm, or Glimmerbrook, someone was always there to remind him how much he looks like Morgyn. Did anyone ever tell Morgyn how much the blond looks like Ezio? Or was Ezio always the one that looks like Morgyn?

“He’s got a girlfriend these days,” Emilia said. “So I hear.”

Ezio snorted. “Morgyn’s got the time for one of those?” If he remembered right, those liked being paid attention to.

Emilia shrugged. “I guess so,” she said. Her arms stretched out in her lap. “He is gone a lot these days. L and Simeon are starting to get annoyed by it, since it seems like he’s not taking his position as sage seriously anymore.”

“Morgyn’s been sage for hundreds of years now,” Ezio said. “So have they, for that matter. It gets tiring after a few years, I’d imagine. If we want to split hairs, it’s amazing the idiot’s not gotten distracted before now.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Emilia said. “Anyway, how’s work going?”

Ezio shrugged a shoulder. “As well as can be expected,” he said. His work was of a more sensitive nature. He couldn’t just up and talk about all the cases he was working on, though he’d like to be able to. Sometimes it was useful to be able to have a soundboard. “Yours?”

“I haven’t wanted to commit murder recently,” Emilia answered. “I think that’s a good thing, right?”

Ezio snorted softly. “It’s hard to imagine you wanting to murder someone, you know?”

“Well you know, I’m not quite as nice as I pretend to be,” Emilia said. “Only mostly. My friends are all less nice than I am, guess I’m doomed to be overshadowed by them.”

Ezio smiled. “I guess so,” he said. “You know if you need me to punch someone, or freeze them to a wall, I can do that, right?”

Emilia laughed, standing up. “Yeah, I know,” she said, shuffling into the bathroom. “But you’re always so busy anyway.” Presumably, she was heading into the bathroom to rummage through his cabinets, and make sure he had enough shampoo and body wash. Ezio did tend to put off store trips for longer than he should.

It was a side-effect of hating people, he always figured.

“Are you and Darrel still a thing?” Ezio asked, raising his voice a little.

Emilia didn’t answer right off. She never did when he asked about Darrel, and Ezio thought her silence said a lot more than her words.

She and Darrel were childhood friends. They’d known each other since grade school. Darrel was a bloodline spellcaster. He had a strong lineage behind him, but Emilia wasn’t a spellcaster originally. The combination of being friends with Darrel, and Grace Anansi, later talked her into becoming one.

Darrel’s mother, Minerva, arranged it so Darrel would marry Emilia, and have his strong-bloodline spellcaster children, continuing the Charm legacy. Two problems with this; Ezio was quite sure Darrel was gay (either that or everyone was into Ezio whether they were gay or not), and he didn’t seem to want children, either. Secondly, Emilia and Darrel were not in love with each other.

No. Perhaps that was the wrong way of saying it. Darrel adored Emilia, he always had. But she didn’t feel the same way. It was sad to watch them interact. There was a reason Ezio hardly ever went to the Charm manor.

“Of course we are,” Emilia answered, finally. She did so very quietly. Were he not a vampire, Ezio might’ve missed it. “That was decided a long time ago.”

Ezio stood up, moving over to the bathroom door. His arms crossed over his chest, and he leaned against the bathroom door frame. Emilia idly rummaged through the medicine cabinet behind the mirror over the sink, checking dates on bottles. Eventually, her eyes flicked over to him.

Then, she looked back at the mirror, leaning over to one side to try and see the door frame in it. As always she did, she giggled when Ezio’s reflection wasn’t there.

“That’s so weird,” she said.

Ezio shook his head at her, a soft smile on his face for a moment, and then it was gone. “Em,” he said, “I’ve lived a long time. Trust me. Chase happiness, not just good enough.”

“I can be happy with him,” she said.

“Can you?”

Emilia didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to.

~*~

Ezio would say that one got accustomed to being a vampire eventually. That someday, how different things were no longer graced one’s radar. That was perhaps more of an individual thing. Ezio had gotten used to it a long time ago. At one time, he even disliked attacking others for feeding, but over time, he’d even desensitised to that.

He knew of other vampires that couldn’t attack others in order to sustain themselves. Ezio was simply not one of them. It helped that half the populace was rather grating.

It was instinctive, now. Ezio scooted around San Myshuno, turned down an alleyway. When one was far out of the sight of others, it became exponentially easier not to get caught. Ezio had learnt eventually that luring others to him, rather than going to them, worked out in his favour with less margin for error. His mental manipulation abilities were such that he could easily command some unsuspecting sap to walk down an alleyway, even when their common sense told them there was no reason to.

As he turned a corner, he began mentally feeling around, looking for someone susceptible to his mind tricks. Within a few minutes, someone turned the same corner, and followed him.

Over the years, he’d gotten good at keeping them from panicking. Now, it was as if they simply fell into a trance, and then they slept it off. The woman that’d followed him loosed a strange sound from her throat, falling onto the concrete to sleep until her energy came back, and Ezio stood up straight. His nose wrinkled, tongue flicking out to snatch a drop of blood from his lips, grey eyes glowing faintly.

There was no sense staying here if he wanted to pretend he had nothing to do with it. Ezio tilted his head, turning on one heeled foot and heading out of the alley. The lights were always fascinating. Right after feeding, his senses were sharper, and everything was clearer. It was likely by design, but Ezio had never considered the science behind vampirism. Surely, there was some science to it, and the logical mind of his was curious, but he didn’t want to understand it, not any more than he needed to.

At times, Ezio simply watched the people bustle around the city, going about their lives unaware of the existence of vampires and other such things. He wondered sometimes, how things would’ve gone if he’d never become a vampire in the first place.

Celio was right. He shouldn’t have lingered outside the barrier as long as he did. Whatever had brought Dussault manor down eventually brought him down, too.

Ezio moved over to a bench, settling down, and watching the people. The night was young, and he felt strong. It wouldn’t last forever, of course, it never did. But for now, he could sit here, watching the world in high definition, the lights race up the bridge supports, the moon begin its ascent into the sky. Sometimes, the world was grey and dull, and other times, for just a little bit, it was alive.

Emilia was the only friend he had left. The only other companion Ezio had was a long-dead fish, and he was a lawyer. Some might say he was lacking in direction in life. He wasn’t sure if that was right. Sure, Ezio had no idea where he was going, but he didn’t feel lost. He felt like he was right where he was meant to be.

As he sat there on the bench, watching the city lights, he heard a strange sound. What was that? Ezio sat up on the bench a little, listening around the din of traffic and people talking. It almost sounded like a baby, perhaps. Oh, no, that was a cat, meowing softly from somewhere.

Ezio wasn’t sure if it was a weak meow, or simply a very distant one. He stood up, glancing down the alleyway where he’d left the woman. She was still out like a light, but difficult to see from the street. She should be alright if he left her there. He followed the sound of the cat, closer, turning a corner and finding a small, black and white cat, with a green bow collar and a little hat on its head.

The meowing was almost sporadic, but the cat sounded out of it. Ezio drew a breath in-he didn’t think cats were meant to smell that way, either.

“Hey, little guy,” Ezio said softly, kneeling down and holding his hand out. “Who’re you? I’m Ezio. Do you live around here?” If he remembered, cats didn’t understand human language. It was more the tone, rather than the words.

The cat looked up at him, bleary-eyed and confused. Another faint meow loosed, and then the cat unceremoniously collapsed onto the concrete.

Ezio startled, shifting over to catch the cat before it hit the sidewalk. Poor thing seemed to have a bit of a fever, he found, running a hand through the cat’s fur. It was hard for him to tell-what was a normal temperature for a cat?-but it was alarming.

Gently, Ezio scooped the little cat up, careful not to lose his hat. It looked to be male, and smelled like it, too. “I guess you’re a guest for now then,” Ezio said softly, turning and starting down the street that led to his apartment building.

Ezio couldn’t just leave him in the street sick like this. He never had much care for humans to speak of. Most of them were loud, annoying, and the cause of their own problems.

Animals, on the other hand, were a whole other story, and when Ezio happened across one, he found he was still capable of compassion. Simply, not for humans.

He’d need to be careful, Ezio imagined. His apartment wasn’t ready for a cat whatsoever, but he could work around that. Neither was a cat in his lease. He didn’t think the building manager would mind it, if he was upfront and honest. Neither did he want it to become a big thing. He wasn’t adopting and keeping the cat, anyway, it was a temporary arrangement until the cat got better, that was all.

Everyone’s famous last words.

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